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H on est ly ,

The night is always darkest just before the dawn.

Who's Gonna Save My Soul Now?
17.8.09

I don't think this is going to work. I can't handle the emotional distance. I know I said I could and I thought I could but I can't. I tried though. I still want to be your friend. I want you in my life as much as possible. I just can't put up with feeling like I'm not important enough for your time. I know you don't mean to make me feel that way. It's silly of me, and I try to ignore it, but it's still the way I feel. I know you're busy, I understand and respect that. I admire what you do. I wish you the best and if you ever need anything, I'll do what I can to help you. I hope you know that. I don't think either you or I are in the place right now, to make this work, and i can't keep putting all this emotion into you, knowing I'm not going to get it back. I should've known better than to get all emotional in the first place, that's my fault, and I'll deal with it. I guess what I'm the most afraid of is that I'm not sure if we'll be able to be friends now. That would hurt me, if we couldn't be. I'm not going to ramble. I'm just going to say that I don't want to end this, whatever this is that we're doing, but I can't see any other way. If you've got any suggestions, let me know.

XOXO
-A.

I actually sent that. And he read it. And responded. And now we're trying to talk. Like, yenno, as friends. It's awkward. On one hand I want to take it back. Maybe I was too quick on the draw (disregarding that I've felt like this for months), maybe I should've tried harder. I keep thinking I could've done something. That's a thing I do (that I'll talk about like, a paragraph from now). On the other hand, I'm proud of myself. I said it. I did it. I didn't have someone do it for me. I didn't pretend I didn't feel it (for too long, anyway), I told him. And I kinda want to think that I should feel better. But I know that I'm not going to.

You see, I've got this way of taking things so personally. If something I'm involved with doesn't work out, it's my fault. I could've worked harder. There was something more I should've done. There's some trick I was too lazy to try. I'm like this with everything. So nevermind that maybe we aren't right for each other, or maybe it's just the wrong time. It didn't work. It's my fault. My heart hurts. It's ridiculous. I know.

Be prepared for the poetry blog to flood with all things melancholy and rhyming. That's just the place I'm in right now.


Ashley

just another little black girl with dreams. I play my music too loud, and I don't listen. I'm only at peace when I'm in pain: when my wrist is sore from writing my emotions out like blood on the band-aid of a page, or when my throat is raw from singing my thoughts like tears into the air. I'm conflicted, and unrepentant, and I like the way this blogging shit makes me feel. This is the one and only place I'll never lie, honestly.

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Ashley @ ...

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